Might as Well
by anapudim
Summary: Lena never really had any grand plans, no real course in life. But between getting abducted by aliens and getting rescued by a Terran turned space outlaw, she wasn't sure when she had decided that 'might as well' was an acceptable reaction.
1. Prologue

_Hey hey! This is one idea that wouldn't let go so I decide to write it anyway. I first posted this fic in ao3 and now I decided to put it here also, so I'll probably be updating once a day until the fic is at the same point in both sites. Anyways, this is my first posted fic in a while and although I've been writing for some time I'm not what you'd call a master writer so ye be warned. Enjoy!_

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><p>Lena was paranoid.<p>

Well, she hadn't always been this paranoid. Usually it was just the typical 'don't go into creepy dark alleys' and 'watch out for anyone trying to roofie your drink', but she had to admit her paranoia had been increasingly growing over the years. She only had herself to blame though. Her and her life choices – you don't start illegally hacking into people's computers without becoming the least bit paranoid that someone is going to find out what you've been up to and throw you in jail.

Maybe she should stop.

Maybe, she mused, she could put her computer skills to a non-illegal use. She was pretty good at it, if she said so herself. Maybe she should stop all the illegal hacking and just, you know, get a move on with her life, do something productive. Maybe.

_After this job_ _I'll get right on it_.

(Never mind that was what she'd said the last two times.)

Sipping from her coffee, Lena looked over the other people occupying the coffee shop to make sure no one seemed too… suspicious. Aaaand there was the paranoia again – she stared a little longer at a man with a dark coat standing on the door of the coffee shop that looked a tad suspicious (or at least to her paranoia-filled mind) until someone that seemed to be his girlfriend showed up and they left together.

She really wasn't _that _paranoid usually. She had her reasons, she really did. Mainly, the fact that just a few hours ago she had picked up on a really,_really_ weird signal on her computer. It wasn't like anything she'd ever seen before, floating around on a rarely used frequency that when she decrypted it (with some difficulty), only looked like a bunch of strange symbols. She had stopped right there, figuring the symbols probably needed to also be decrypted and not wanting to find out what they meant (okay that was a lie – she was so damn curious about it – but what she didn't want to face were the consequences of that if she did). However, it did leave her feeling extremely paranoid.

She hoped with all her might that no one noticed her picking up on it.

* * *

><p>Lena had watched enough cop shows to know that you should never return to the scene of the crime and, granted, there was no crime committed (no murder at least, the legality of it all was still questionable), but she felt uneasy going back to where she had picked up that weird signal.<p>

It was an antenna in the middle of nowhere, right outside of town, that sat in the middle of an empty farm. She wasn't going back there out of her own free will, but rather because she had a job to finish. Lena briefly wondered when and why she started getting involved with such shady characters, ones that 'hired' her to install a backdoor on the computer terminal of this weird in-the-middle-of-nowhere antenna. She had no idea why there was such thing in this place, nor why they needed a backdoor to it, but she didn't ask questions - she'd be done and they'd pay her and she could go on her merry way. After a while of living on her own, money started becoming scarce so she had to get by with what skills she had.

Which apparently involved getting mixed up with shady figures that one of her 'friends' – and she used that word loosely – put her up with.

This also meant she had to finish this job or take it up to the shady guy, so she decided to suck it up and go back. It was her own damn fault that she got distracted with the weird signal (that she picked up while using the antenna in the first place).

It took her a bus and some hitchhiking to get to the abandoned farmhouse where the antenna was, and that was the easy part. Not only it was creepy as hell during the night (which she figured would be the best time to do her, uh, illegal activities), but she was still feeling extremely paranoid at the whole signal thing. Thankfully, she somewhat remembered the way from her previous incursion the day before and was able to get to the computer terminal relatively quicker than before. Also considering she didn't have to start it all over again, she could just pick up from where she left off and be done with it sooner.

Lena nodded to herself as she plugged her computer back in – _alright, just have to finish the thing and then you can go home._

(Home being a crappy motel room, but still. Better than nothing, right?)

Time flew as she focused on writing the code, only shifting position every now and then because she was sitting uncomfortably on the dirty ground. When the wind picked up she pulled her jacket closer to her body, but never let her attention waver from the computer. Even when the wind started whipping her hair around (she should have worn a hair band) she only let go of the computer after she finished typing and let the computer work on its own.

Lena stretched her arms and stood up, brushing the dirt off her jeans. Just a little while longer and she would be finished with this, all she had to do was wait for the computer to finish processing.

_After this I'm definitely not getting involved with shady characters again._

Her paranoia struck again and she felt a prickling feeling on the back of her neck that made her look around. She couldn't see much in the dark, although there wasn't much to be seen other than plants and dust and the abandoned barn just a few feet away. And also wind, but you can't really_see_ the wind so it didn't count.

And you can't see noise either.

But she definitely heard something.

Lena turned abruptly, trying to pinpoint where the noise was coming from. It sounded like – a helicopter? And it was getting louder, as in, getting closer.

_Shit. Shit shit shit._

Lena turned back to her things and started to frantically shove them back inside her bag - she didn't know and didn't care what the noise was but she was _not_ risking getting caught over this. She shot a glance at the computer just as she pulled the strap of her bag over her head and cursed when she saw that it wasn't done yet. _Screw it, time to go. _She slammed her laptop shut and hastily disconnected it, the growing noise of the helicopter urging her to just _get the hell out of there_.

And get the hell out of there she did. Or at least she tried to.

Just as Lena was making a run for the barn – maybe she could hide in there – a bright light flashed down on her, nearly blinding her and making her stop in her tracks. With one hand shielding her face and the other clutching on her laptop, Lena looked up and what she saw was most_definitely not_ a helicopter.

Or a plane.

Or a jet.

Or any kind of aircraft that she'd ever seen.

Truth be told, she was twelve percent sure she was actually just dreaming, and probably would wake back up in her room and think to herself 'wow, I really should stop watching alien movies before bed'. Meanwhile, the other eighty eight percent was filled with pure panic. And then all she registered was an even brighter light and an extremely uncomfortable sensation passing through her body before she didn't register anything else.

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><p><em>Hope it wasn't too confusing! I have a way of, er, stumbling with words so<em>

_Next chapter coming out tomorrow!_


	2. Accidentally Abducted and Rescued

_The original name of the chapter was Accidentally Abducted, Accidentally Rescued, but the character limit didn't let me so I had to change it. Anyways, enjoy!_

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><p>The first thing that her mind took notice when coming to was the smell. The stinky, worse than rotten eggs, god awful <em>smell<em> that was making its way up her nose. The second thing was the damp surface she was currently laying on, and thirdly, the really uncomfortable position her body was in.

Shifting slightly, dully noting the presence of a headache, Lena tried to get her bearings in what, where, when and who, but so far she had no answer to any of them. She opened her eyes, but having her face was half plastered to the floor made her line of sight very limited, so she dragged her arms up and lifted her head up from the floor.

And instantly wanted to lie back down and pretend it was all a dream.

In front of her were metal bars, as in, actual metal bars, as in, she was in an actual _cell_.

_Oh no no no, don't tell me I've been arrested, please don't-_

Scrambling into a sitting position, she let her eyes roam the place trying to figure out what the hell was going on. However, other than the fact that she was in a dingy and disgusting cell and the only thing she could see beyond the bars was the wall of what seemed to be a corridor, she couldn't find any clues. That, and her bag was missing.

She brushed the hair out of her eyes and breathed in – although she quickly regretted that due to the unpleasant smell – while trying to calm herself enough to think rationally. It didn't work – the minute she started hearing footsteps in her direction panic flooded her and she scooted to the back of the cell. And when a large figure stepped into sight, she would have done a double take had she not been staring at it wide-eyed.

_What the actual fuck?_

The thing wasn't… human. Or it didn't look like it. Looked vaguely humanoid, sure, but bigger, crinklier and greener. Also angrier. Or very displeased. Or maybe that was the thing's natural face, at this point she didn't know.

The point was—she _didn't know_. Her mind had experienced the equivalent of a blue screen of death and was on the verge of shutting down.

She just… didn't know… what was _happening_.

The thing grumbled unintelligently at her and when she didn't answer, a second… thing (red, slimmer, slimier) showed up and it too grumbled something at her. Lena just looked at them both with a confused expression, and then the two things started arguing with each other. She watched as one of them angrily stomped away only to return a minute later with something on his hand (she was assuming it was a he at this point, she might be proven wrong). Her mind finally snapped into action when the red one opened the cell door and stepped inside, survival-slash-panic instincts kicking in as she made a desperate move to scramble away from his approaching hand - especially when she saw the weird device he held in his other hand, one that was also closing in quickly. All to no avail, however, as he grabbed her by the jacket and pressed the device thing to her neck.

She felt a sharp pain where the device connected and suddenly her ears started ringing, which made her eyes shut tight in discomfort.

"…rstan…e…ow?"

_What?_

"…underst…e …ow?"

"What?"

"…understand me now?!"

Lena blinked quickly, the ringing in her ears fading away as she suddenly realized that she _could_ understand him now. It was like all the grumbles and unintelligible grunts had given away to actual words, or better yet, she could understand them. And it was _weird_.

The red guy shook her harshly and she was jerked out of her thoughts. "Can you understand what I'm sayin', girl?!"

"Uh— Y-yeah."

He grunted and dropped her unceremoniously to the ground. "Unevolved primates, don't even have translators." He grumbled as he turned away. "Bet won't even make a good buck." _What?_

"Hey!" The other one, the big green one, barked, smacking a baton-looking thing against the bars that emitted electricity and made her jump. "You were the one who picked up on tha beacon, weren't ya?"

Her eyes widened._ Oh God, the signal—shit! What should I say?_

Should she lie? Should she tell the truth? That is, if the signal she'd picked up was even what they were talking about, but the question was, was it a good thing or a bad thing?

_shiiiit_

"He asked you a question!" The other one barked and she jumped.

"I-I—Maybe? Yes?"

The green one shot her a big and evil grin that sent chills through her spine. "Maybe this one's not so unevolved after all."

When Lena looked at the other one she saw that he had an equally predatory grin on his face. "Think boss can sell this one for a good price?"

"If she's not as useless as the rest of that lousy planet." He smacked his baton against the bars again, emitting another spark. She assumed it was the baton that was electrified, considering that they both had touched the bars without any harm. "No wonder no one comes around here."

Who the hell were these people? What was she doing there? And why did she have a sinking feeling she was not going to like it?

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><p>She was left to her own devices after the two guys left and she spent most of the time sitting on the ground trying to process everything that had happened.<p>

She remembered the light and the not-helicopter (that looked like a space shi—_nope not going there_), and then she woke up in the cell. Then the two guys and the translator? And talk about selling her?

She'd seen enough sci-fi movies to not let her mind wander into sci-fi territory. Plus, after she'd scooted towards the bars she could make out words being spoken somewhere down the corridor, such as 'boss', 'ship' and 'trade', and her mind came to the most illogically logical conclusion:

She was in a space ship. With aliens. Who wanted to sell her? That part wasn't really clear, but she was starting to think she might be right.

_Alright Lena, how are you gonna get out of this now?_

She'd checked her pockets, but there wasn't anything useful inside. The only thing resembling a weapon that she owned was her taser, but that had been in her bag and who knows where that was now.

So she was stuck. In an alien spaceship.

She buried her hands in her hair and let her head fall to the knees.

* * *

><p>The light in the corridor flickered every six seconds.<p>

That was about the only progress she made in that place.

Other than that, nothing. No clue as to how much time had passed, how she would get out, or what would happen to her. Well, she had some clue about _that_ and it wasn't comforting.

No one else had showed up in front of her cell ever since green guy and red guy left, and Lena was half relieved and half terrified. The stubborn part in her was starting to want answers, and if she had to count how many light flickers there were in a minute again she might just start yelling until someone appeared.

_And then what?_

With a defeated sigh she slumped back on the far wall.

* * *

><p>She wasn't sure how long had passed until something actually started happening.<p>

Agitation could be heard down the corridor, followed by shouts and what she could swear were gunshots. Lena lifted herself off the ground but kept close to the far wall – if those _were_ gunshots, probably a wise idea to stay as far away as possible from the open bars. A few minutes later, a couple of different looking aliens passed by her cell running, both holding gun-looking weapons and with angry expressions on their faces. She was tempted to get closer to the bars to see if she could actually _see_ what was happening, but shoved that urge down as more aliens ran down the corridor.

She could hear someone shouting orders and she vaguely recognized the voice as the red guy from before. And then there was a large red body flying down the corridor and by her cell that she was pretty sure it _was _the red guy from before.

She jumped back – she hadn't even realized she had inched forward – when the body crashed nearly in front of her cell. Part of her wondered if he was dead, while part of her only stared at the figure that had stepped into her line of sight.

Tall, dark red jacket and a metallic… mask… helmet thingy, complete with space-age guns that she assumed were the cause of the other guy's… fall. Also she had only just noticed the fact that a squeaky 'ohmygod' had escaped her mouth when the red guy flew by, which made the guy with the metal mask turn his attention to her.

Great, first alien kidnappers, now alien murderers? What did she do to make the universe hate her? She was seriously reconsidering all her life choices in the future. If she had one.

"Who are you?" He asked, his voice somewhat muffled by the mask.

Her eyebrows shot up, and at a later time thinking back at this, she would realize that her freaking out quota had reached its maximum to the point that her brain simply didn't care anymore. "Who are _you_?"

The guy lifted a hand to the side of his head and suddenly the mask started to shrink away, revealing a – surprisingly – human looking face, complete with blonde hair, light eyes and stubble. The normality of it all was just so _surreal._ "Where are you from?"

What is this, twenty questions? And what exactly was an acceptable answer here? "I, Uh—Toronto. Earth?"

The man seemed taken aback for a moment, before movement down the corridor drew his attention. Lena noted how he seemed eager to leave – he was slightly bouncing on his legs and his hands were tightening on his guns.

And it suddenly occurred to her that he might be her way out.

"You're not gonna leave me here… are you?" She asked. Or rather, nearly begged (_screw dignity, I'd much rather have my life_).

He seemed conflicted for a moment and she wondered that if despite his normal appearance he actually was a murderer. Or at least someone she really shouldn't trust.

_Not like I have a choice._

The man gave a grunt and seemingly gave in to whatever internal battle he was having. "Just—Get away from the door."

Nodding, Lena backed away as far as she could (which meant pressing herself against the wall) as the man raised one of his guns and fired at door. Lena covered her head with her hands as the door was blown back by the force of what was definitely not normal bullets, and before she could fully process what was happening the man was already ushering her outside.

"Come on, we have to go _now_." And then he was pulling her along as he ran down the corridor.

She decided that yes, getting the hell out of there seemed like a good idea.

They ran until they reached the end of the corridor which branched out into a larger room. In it, there was a table on the far off side, and on top of it was her bag (it wasn't lost!) and a bunch of other paraphernalia that didn't peak her interest.

"Wait!" She called out and stopped, which caused the man to stop as well and throw her a 'what the hell are you doing' look. "Those are my things."

Lena ignored him for the time being as she rushed towards her bag, grabbing it and pulling the strap over her head—

And she felt stupid for not noticing the big green guy from before coming out of the doorway right next to her and charging at her with his electrified batons. She barely had time to blink before the hulking mass of green was blasted back against the wall – thanks to the man's quick reflexes and a shot from his guns (or blasters. They were definitely blasters). Then a second guy came out, and on impulse, Lena grabbed the fallen green guy's batons and (being lucky enough that the 'on' button wasn't hard to find) slammed them into the other attacker. He convulsed before falling to the floor.

_Holy shit._

Her 'rescuer' had to tug at her arm to snap her out of it – _what did I just do holy shit _- , and taking a deep breath she followed him out of the room.

* * *

><p>Their escape route wasn't a smooth as Lena had hoped, but any obstacles were quickly met with a blast from her rescuer's blasters. If she had to be honest, she'd say that they got extremely lucky, that and the fact that her kidnappers didn't seem very… competent (they all fell pretty quickly, and no one seemed to have an organized plan of attack).<p>

The rest of the ship was as filthy as the cell she'd been in, but Lena only paid it a half a mind as they ran down corridors and soon enough (or not soon enough – she couldn't wait to get out of there) they entered some kind of cargo hold and the man directed them to a hidden corner.

And in there was ship - smaller, shiny, orange and blue.

"Come on!" The man spoke, running towards the ship and motioning her along. Lena could hear angry shouting behind them and would much rather take her chances with the man that might or might not be a murderer, than with the ones that abducted her (and were planning to sell her - that was a key point).

The man ran to a nearby panel and pressed something that she didn't see, before running back to the ship. She barely had time to register the doors opening to reveal space – actual space – and the wind picking up (and some part of her wondered why they weren't being sucked out, isn't that what's supposed to happen?) when she was pulled inside the ship.

It was only when they were safely inside (and the man had run to the pilot seat) that Lena noticed she was still clutching the two electrified batons as if her life depended on it. Finally snapping out of the 'run for your life' state her mind had been stuck in, she dropped the batons and shook her head, but didn't have much time to dwell on the fact she was escaping an alien spaceship into _another _alien spaceship when the ship lurched and she realized they were taking off. Looking around for something to hold on to, she decided to follow the man into the cockpit and gingerly sat down on the seat beside him.

Lena only had a vague idea of what happened next – there was a lot of shaking and turning, and she desperately tried to find a seatbelt – but when the man gave a sigh of relief and slumped back in the seat, Lena let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"I think we lost them." He spoke.

Lena gave him a tiny nod – her brain was still struggling to catch up to the whole situation.

"Hey." He said. She didn't realize he was addressing her until he spoke again. "What's your name?"

"Uh—" Brain still struggling. "Lena. Lena Hansen."

"And you're from Terra?"

She shot him a confused look.

"Earth." He explained.

Was that what they called Earth out there? "Yeah."

The man scratched his chin in thought. "How did you end up on a slavers ship?"

Now that was the question of the year, wasn't it? "Well, I, uh… I was just minding my own business – on Earth – and then…" She shrugged.

"Can't believe they went into Asgardian territory." The man spoke, mostly to himself. Then, he turned back to her. "I'm Peter Quill." The man, Peter, she supposed, introduced himself. She briefly wondered if his name had an actual different spelling other than 'Peter' because it couldn't be really 'Peter', could it? That was such an… _ordinary_ name. "Also from Earth." Oh. Maybe that's why.

"You're from Earth?" She asked. Lena couldn't help herself – a little glimmer of hope made itself known, of actually finding someone from her own planet, of maybe, just maybe, being able to convince him to take her back home. He was from Earth too, wasn't he? Shouldn't be too hard.

"Yeah. Haven't been there in a while."

They lapsed into an awkward silence, Lena trying to figure out the best way to ask him for a ride home while he stared at some of the screens and pushed a few buttons. When the silence got too much for her – she had spent who knows how much time in silence in that cell – she decided _screw it, time for a direct approach_.

"So, uh—Can you… take me home?"

Peter froze. That was not a good sign. "To… Earth?"

She shot him a half desperate, half 'duh' look.

"It's complicated." He turned back to a screen, effectively breaking eye contact. Lena kept staring at him, waiting for him to elaborate – that was his own planet, it shouldn't be _that_ complicated – and didn't give up even when it was clear he was decidedly ignoring her. When he risked a glance at her and caught her still staring, he sighed and turned back. "Like I said, it's Asgardian territory. And they don't like outsiders flying about, especially not ones like… me."

She frowned. "Like you?"

Peter shook his head. "It's complicated, I uh—We'll figure it out, okay? Right now I just need to get back before Yondu decides to have 'Peter Quill on a yakka stick'."

Lena went quiet. Probably not a good idea to antagonize the man who rescued her, and despite not know who Yondu or what a yakka stick was, it didn't seem very pleasant. At least – she thought, settling back on the seat – she had managed to escape those 'slavers' and was still relatively fine (if only a bit shaken up). She felt like she could relax a bit and worry about the 'how am I going to get home' part later.

(Until she realized that Peter had said they were heading back to somewhere, and if she had to put two and two together she'd say it was to where this Yondu was.)

(She really hoped she hadn't stepped out of the frying pan and into the fire.)

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><p><em>So new chapter! Longer and with more things happening and Peter showed up! I apologize if anything is too confusing I often confuse myself. So there's that.<em>

_(and once again, I'm making it up as a go along)_


	3. Things of Interest

As the Milano docked into the bay, Peter swore he could already hear Yondu's angry yelling even from inside the ship. And honestly, he didn't doubt it – the minute Peter stepped outside he really _could_ hear Yondu's voice booming towards him.

"Quill!" Peter heard and braced himself for getting nearly impaled by a yakka arrow in the near future. It was inevitable. "Quill!"

Peter smiled – maybe he could bullshit his way out. Didn't hurt to try. "Hey, Yondu! How's it going?"

"Where have you been, boy?!"

Peter didn't flinch when Yondu moved in way too close for comfort, only raised his head a little higher as he spoke. "Exploring."

"Exploring what exactly, that you couldn't share with your fellow Ravagers?" Yondu motioned to the others around him, then set his hands on his hips – deliberately pushing his coat back to expose the yakka arrow as an unspoken threat. It certainly didn't have to be spoken for Peter to feel threatened.

The Terran glanced down before shooting him a tight smile. "Things of… Interest."

Truth be told, Peter had nothing - other than the Terran girl aboard his ship. Before he decided on breaking into that slaver ship he knew that he wouldn't find anything of interest to Yondu and the Ravagers, nothing that would justify the reckless break in anyway. But when he'd heard that the slavers had picked something up on his home planet – he couldn't help himself. It was just too tempting – to find something from his former home, anything, even if they were just worthless trinkets, and before he knew it he was already stealthy-invading the slaver ship. He hadn't found anything worth his interest, and he certainly hadn't been expecting to find a terrified Terran girl asking for help (but honestly, what had he been expecting? They were slavers, they picked up _slaves_, what else did he think he was going to find?).

Peter was still undecided if it had been worth the risk. On one hand, he probably saved that girl's life. On the other hand, Yondu was probably going to kill him.

Well…

"What kind of things are we talking about here?" Yondu became slightly less murderous at the prospect of items to sell, however, Peter knew it wouldn't last long. "Where they at?"

"Uh, in my ship." And Peter immediately regretted that as Yondu brushed past him. "But, you see-"

Yondu stopped in his tracks and turned to look at him square in the eye. "You see, what?"

"It's not exactly… a _thing._"

Yondu narrowed his eyes, but chose not to say anything as he resumed walking towards the Milano, Peter following suit.

* * *

><p>Lena felt nervous waiting inside the ship, but mostly because Peter seemed nervous when he left (and told her to stay put). The adrenaline she felt when escaping the slavers had died down, leaving her body extremely tired and sore, and the headache she'd felt before had come back full force.<p>

In short, she wasn't sure she had the energy to fight if things went awry.

Despite feeling fatigued, Lena felt the waiting eating away at her patience. While her body just wanted to sink down in the seat and not move for a month, her mind was functioning overtime thinking up all the possibilities of what was going to happen next - without her consent. It seemed like an eternity until she finally heard someone step back inside – more than one person actually, if she counted the footsteps. Lena got up from her seat and turned around, coming face to face with a guy who certainly didn't look happy.

And also had blue skin.

The blue alien guy (who seemed more human-ish than the ones she'd encountered previously) looked her up and down before giving a humourless snort and turning to Peter, who appeared right behind him. "That the _interesting thing_ you been exploring, boy?"

Peter's eyes widened. "What? No!" Lena might be extremely tired and on the verge of a mental shutdown, but even she understood what the blue alien was implying.

And just _no_.

"I found her on a slaver ship." Peter said. "I don't know what exactly are you implying here but I-"

"The hell were you doing on a slaver ship?" Blue interrupted. Peter shut up immediately. "Us Ravagers don't get mixed up with their kind!" What the hell was a Ravager?

"I just—Listen!" Peter said, raising his hands up in front of him as Blue was seemingly launching into an angry rant. "I heard rumours that the slavers had picked something up on Terra - I was in the neighbourhood so I thought, why not? Then things happened, and as it turns out, it wasn't something, it was some_one_. So she kinda tagged along."

Blue narrowed his eyes at him and then turned to her. At this point Lena was too tired to be terrified, so she simply stared back.

_If they're going to kill me they better do it soon, because I'm about to drop dead on my feet anyway._

"And what exactly do you plan on doing with her?"

Peter opened his mouth a couple of times, then scratched his head. "I haven't thought that far ahead." And somehow, she was not surprised.

Blue grunted. "Just drop her off at the next port. 'Til then you feed her, look after her, make sure she doesn't break anything."

"I'm not a pet!" Lena exclaimed and froze. Probably should not have talked back at the angry alien.

But she'd had a long day, give her a break.

Thankfully, Blue only smirked before turning away and leaving.

Once he was out of sight, Peter let out a breath and threw himself into the nearest seat. Lena shifted her attention to him warily – right now, he was her only chance of getting home, and even that was slim. Would he actually do it – leave her on the next port like the other guy had said? And if he did so, what would she do then?

Her only shot right now was appealing to his good side, and she had no idea where that would take her.

She swallowed. "Can't you really take me home?"

Peter looked up then and _maybe_ he wasn't completely insensitive after all – Lena spotted a hint of regret on his face, however brief. Unfortunately, it did nothing to comfort her. "I don't think I can." His eyes dropped. "Sorry."

It just didn't make any sense. "But I thought you said you were from Earth?" She asked.

He sighed. "Yeah, but I, ah—haven't been there in a _very _long time. Not ever since I left."

"You never went back?"

He shot her a quick glance before standing up. "Not really no. There are things… in the way."

As Peter began to move around, Lena worked up the courage to ask the question she wanted to ask, but didn't want the answer to. If he wasn't going to get her home, what then?

"So, you—are you really going to drop me off at the next spaceport, or…"

Peter once again looked back at her, except this time he had the same expression from before when she had asked him to get her out of that cell. Something of an internal battle raging on, trying to make up his mind about something. She hoped he made the right choice, or at least the choice that didn't end with her abandoned on an unknown planet left to fend for herself.

"We'll see." He said and turned away.

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><p><em>This chapter turned out shorter than I had intended :c I was going to continue but it felt right ending it here so I can start something new on next chapter!<em>


	4. Awkward Silence and Dependency Issues

"Is there a bathroom in this thing?" She blurted out.

Peter blinked and looked up from where he was checking his guns, slightly surprised – he hadn't been expecting her to ask another question like that, at least not after spending the past ten minutes in silence (he'd kinda figured - and hoped - she'd gone mute). They had both moved on to the lower level of the ship, pretty much not saying a word after the whole 'I can't get you home and have no idea what to do with you' thing. She, he assumed, was still in shock over the entire situation, and he didn't say anything mostly out of guilt.

Peter Quill was feeling guilty.

There was a first time for everything.

Not only was he feeling guilty, but this whole story about getting abducted from your home brought back memories of his own. The ones about feeling terrified, confused, angry and grieving at the same time, about how the Ravagers had picked him up out of the blue and he'd had no time to grieve over his mother's death—

He had to say, he wasn't enjoying this trip down memory lane - there was a reason he kept those memories buried deep down under layers of arrogance, flirtatiousness and dance moves. Revisiting them brought a whole new wave of issues he wasn't ready to deal with.

But if he had to compare experiences - the girl, Lena, was handling this much better than he had at first. Of course, he'd been a kid back then which accounted for a lot, actually, and although Yondu held the threat of being served as a Terran buffet over his head for years, he'd never had to fear being thrown out to live on his own right off the bat. As a kid, that probably would have gotten him killed anyway, but if it were an _adult_, they would probably fare much better on their own.

So she'd be fine, right?

…Why did his head tell him to do what Yondu told him to do, but a little nagging feeling kept insisting that he couldn't just drop her off and forget about it without feeling any sort of remorse? Goddammit, he thought he'd gotten rid of his conscience years ago, and here it was acting up again.

So much for the getting rid of her in the next spaceport, then. But then what?

Right, bathroom. "Yeah, it's right there." He pointed.

Lena followed his directions and after having a bit of trouble with the door (there was no handle in sight), then finding out what you were supposed to press on the panel beside it to open, she entered the bathroom (and closed the door behind her _and _figured out how to lock it – she was proud of herself). The bathroom itself looked comfortingly normal at first glance, so she decided to pay it no more mind and instead took her time examining her face in the mirror.

Her brown hair was mess, as expected. Her face was also dirty, with a bruise on her cheekbone from where her face had been pressed against the ground when she woke up in that slaver ship, and she looked tired as hell. Exhaling, Lena turned on the faucet and splashed water on her face, cleaning some of the dirt away. Next she was going to try and tame her hair, but the need to pee manifested itself and she decided to not deny it to herself any longer.

After fixing herself up to a somewhat reasonable state, Lena sat down on the closed toilet and pulled her bag on her lap (the one that she had attached herself to ever since finding it on the slaver ship). Opening it and looking through its contents, she made a quick inventory of what she had – her laptop wasn't in there which was a shame, although she had no idea what she would do with it out in space. There was her phone, probably also useless, an old notebook, her wallet, her taser and some old trinkets. Digging a little more she found – _thank you!_ – her portable toothbrush that she always kept in her bag. She didn't particularly felt inclined to use it now, but it was always good to know she had it.

_No home, no money, no clothes, but hey, at least I have a toothbrush!_

She tossed it back inside the bag.

_If only I had a towel I could go hitchhiking_, she thought dryly.

* * *

><p>When Lena got out of the bathroom and sat down across from Peter, and he <em>still<em> didn't say a word, she felt her patience wearing thin. Dangerously thin. She knew he was avoiding speaking to her because she'd end up asking him to take her home again – or at least that's what she thought. Or what she thought that he thought – she didn't feel like breaching that subject again, at least not until her body stopped demanding her attention.

Her stomach growled, proving her point.

She would have been embarrassed when Peter looked up to shoot her a funny glance, but she had already decided three embarrassments ago that it didn't matter anymore. What she did get was annoyed that _that_ was the only glance he bothered to give her in a while.

"Do you have any food around here?" She asked. _From now on, straight to the point it is._

Peter looked around, walking up to some cabinet-things and opening them. "Maybe-" He stopped. Not only were the cabinets empty but also littered with empty wrappers – proved to be empty when Peter brought his hand down on them. Her eyebrows shot up. "Not."

Peter made a little strangled noise as he closed the cabinets. Lena's eyebrows remained up.

"Guess I forgot to do the groceries, heh?" He gave a little laugh at his attempt of a joke.

The possibility of dying by starvation instead of being mangled by an alien just went up by fifty percent - Lena's eyebrows remained up.

"There's the Ravagers mess hall, though." Peter said, after a few seconds of consideration. "Most of the food there is edible—well, _some_ food. I could take you there, shouldn't be too crowded right now."

Lena pretended to consider, but it wasn't like she had any choice at the moment. Nodding, she got up from her seat. "Okay. Lead the way."

Peter motioned for her to follow, but stopped halfway to the stairs, turning back to look at her. "Just—stay close, okay? Don't want you to go get food and become the food instead."

"_What_?"

"I'm kidding." He started up the stairs. "Sorta."

* * *

><p>On the way to the mess hall (space cafeteria?), it occurred to her that she still didn't know what a Ravager was. She pieced together that Peter, as well as everyone else she saw in this ship (the one Peter's smaller ship was in – was it a mothership? A base in space?), were all Ravagers, seeing they wore similar clothesuniforms. She also put together that whatever they did, it wasn't exactly _legal_. They all had this outlaw, space pirates sort of vibe – or maybe she had watched one too many movies and the hunger was starting to get to her head.

Either way, she definitely stuck with Peter as they walked through corridors, dodging all sorts of nasty looks thrown their (her most likely) way. When they entered the mess hall, there was definitely a considerable amount of people inside and Lena felt like _she _was the alien one as she walked to where the food was.

"Hey, guys!" Peter grinned and waved at a group at a nearby table. They only snarled at him in return. "Nice to see you too." Peter continued grinning, then turned to her and whispered, "Stay away from those – they tend to get teethy when angry. Which is ninety percent of the time."

"So, just smile and wave?" She whispered back.

"Yeah, pretty much."

Peter continued smiling at people as they went to get their food - either getting snarls and growls or being completely ignored in return -, except now she could detect the sarcasm in his expression. It didn't seem he was actually _friends_ with anyone in here, which, sure, it was probably a good thing he wasn't friends with all these murderous-looking aliens, but also begged the question _where would they sit?_

God, this was high school all over again. And it was _ridiculous_.

The question was answered, though, when Peter guided her through a maintenance corridor, plates in hand, and then through another series of narrow corridors that were getting narrower the further they walked. Quite frankly, it was freaking her out how completely deserted and off-the-grid they were, and some part of her thought that this was it, he's finally showing his true face and he brought me here to kill me.

_Dammit, Lena, you know better than to follow strangers into dark alleys. Or corridors._

Lena held on to the fork and knife she had in hand tightly and swore if they had to squeeze through another only-slightly-larger-than-a-feet-long passage, she was going to double back and taker her chances with the evil-eyed aliens back there.

"Where exactly are we going?" She asked warily.

"It's just… right here—I swear, these looked bigger when I was little." Peter spoke, squeezing himself through another small passage.

A few squeezes later, they reached a small area that reminded her of the janitor's closet back in school, except this one had no mops and cleaning products, only various pipes and tubes. How far inside the ship were they?

"I used to come here, a long time ago." Peter started, settling himself on top of a large metal pipe. "Before I got my own ship – actually," he cleared his throat, "right after I first got here."

Her grip on the knife and fork loosened - those would have been stupid weapons anyway - as she realized he probably wasn't planning on killing her and dumping her body somewhere (she hoped), and she sat down next to him.

"No one really comes here, so…" He shrugged, then started picking at his food. "It seemed like a good idea."

Lena then started on her food as well, too hungry to ask any questions at the moment. She had to admit that she also felt grateful that she wouldn't have to deal with any aliens eyeing her at the moment.

Meanwhile beside her, Peter was fighting back another trip down memory lane. Bringing her back here to the place he used to hide out as a child seemed like a sound decision at the time, but now he was starting to regret it. He hadn't been here in a long time, and it brought back memories that he didn't care to remember. He didn't _like_ thinking about his childhood, not when it didn't involve music, movies or fun stuff and _especially_not when it involved being a scared little kid in this giant spaceship, still grieving from his mother's death. He had gotten his own ship for a reason, so he could go out on his own and never look back.

He'd be lying, though, if he said that he hadn't thought about how awesome would it be, having another Terran around. Someone who could understand his movie references, who would not make fun of his planet or traditions, who would _actually_ appreciate his music. What he hadn't been expecting is that it would cause him to go spiraling down in his own memories, rekindling that twinge of nostalgia towards his former home that he'd tried so hard to snuff out over the years.

_This is not what I signed up for._

Swallowing the food he had in his mouth, he decided to do what he always did and just not think about it.

So he focused on the awkward silence instead.

* * *

><p>Going back to the ship was easier for some reason – maybe it was because she was already fed (despite the food not being what you'd call <em>gourmet<em>– or even tiny-restaurant-in-a-back-alley-worthy). However, the awkward silence still remained over the walk back and she was already fed up with it.

But of course, she had no idea how to stop it. She didn't know what to say to make it go away, actually, she didn't know much about anything - and that angered her to no end.

Lena might have been living as a vagrant for the past couple of years of so, but back then she had some sort of control of her life – or at least, she knew where to find food. And shelter. And a job (and not counting the illegal hacking! …if she really wanted). And if things got tough – really tough – she could always crawl back to her 'family', dignity be damned.

Here, she had absolutely _nothing_. She didn't even have the knowledge she prided herself in having about a multitude of things – mostly technological, plenty of street smarts, but way more than an average person. She felt incredibly stupid, and that both annoyed her and angered her and frustrated her at the same time.

The only way she could get any information (or anything at all) was this guy she'd _literally _just met and who essentially she knew nothing about other than his name. Sure he saved her life, but that had been more of an accident than anything, and now she was completely dependent on him, be either food or shelter or the simple knowledge of how things worked. Dammit, she could take care of herself, that's what she'd spent the past few years doing!

"There's a bunk right there, if you want to sleep." Peter spoke once they were back inside his ship. "I guess you can find some blankets around-"

Her patience snapped. "I don't need you to baby me."

Peter looked stunned for a moment, but finally _really_ looked at her – he'd been throwing her over-the-shoulders, indirect and looking-but-not-really looks ever since they went to eat – and simply stared. He didn't seem to be speaking anytime soon, and the annoying silence came back.

"I _am_ grateful, for you rescuing me." She started. If she was going to get this out, she was going to get it all out. "But if I'm just going to be a burden you might as well drop me off like you were supposed to and send me on my away." She crossed her arms, finally breaking eye contact. "I'll figure myself out from there. That's… what I do." She finished lamely, but her resolve didn't waver.

Lena left everything behind once, she could do it again. She knew she could.

Peter looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn't know _what_. The familiar awkward silence resumed - again - and Lena felt like bolting out of the room just to escape it. It was either that or screaming in frustration.

Peter grunted once, breaking the silence. "You know, usually I'm very good with women."

Lena raised an eyebrow.

"Okay. Alright." He nodded. After a pause, he took a deep breath and spoke again. "Is there anything you can do?"

Lena frowned, wondering where he was getting at, and shot him a confused look.

"I mean, if there's anything you can _do_, any skills, or abilities or…" He waved his hands in front of him. "Yondu won't mind you being here as long as you make yourself useful."

Useful she could do. She had skills. She could do wonders with a computer (not an alien one, although she had never tried – you never know), but what use exactly could her skills be for them? "I don't know." _Guess it's time to find out who these people are._ "What exactly do _you_ do?"

Peter cleared his throat, slightly taken aback. "We are in the business of… acquiring… things."

"Acquiring?"

"Yes."

"As in… illegally acquiring?"

"…Possibly, yes."

_Aha._

"Do you have any problem with that?"

She internally snorted. "I wish I could say I did. Kinda lost the right to that a while ago."

Peter tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing as he studied her in a new light. "So, any skills? Anything even remotely useful?"

She took a deep breath. "I'm good with computers."

"How good?"

"Very good." She considered how much she should tell him but decided _screw it_. "I got kicked out of college for hacking into where I wasn't supposed to." That should give him an idea.

The corner of his mouth lifted. "Alright." He nodded. "We can work with that. You don't want to be babied, I would _much_ rather _not_ have to baby you – let's be honest -, we can… come to some sort of agreement."

She nodded._ Alright, now we're getting somewhere._

* * *

><p><em>Yes, now we're finally getting somewhere! Fun things! Friendship! Yay! I hope! Also this chapter came out longer than intended, oops (guess it's to make up for the shortness of last chapter) c:<em>


	5. Being Nosy is a Specialty

When she woke up, the sun was not bathing her face in its warmth. Actually, it was pretty cold, and while Lena had the habit of leaving the curtains open before going to bed so she'd wake up with the sun, the window would always be shut. Blinking awake, she slowly became aware of her surroundings, including the fact that last night's dream was, in fact, _not_ a dream at all.

_I'm really in a spaceship. Okay then._

Sitting up, Lena glanced at the bunk next to the one she'd slept in and noticed that Peter wasn't in it, but the sheets were all rumpled so she guessed he was already up – which made her wonder how long had she been sleeping. She wouldn't be surprised if she found out she'd slept twenty four hours straight with how tired she'd been.

Rubbing a hand over her face, Lena stifled a yawn as she got up and stretched. Looking around, she took notice that Peter was nowhere in sight, as well as other details she had overlooked before (she had kinda just plopped down on the bunk and passed out right away, no time for admiring the decoration). Her eyes eventually fell upon the wall of the opposite bunk, curiosity peaked as recognized the thing in it.

_Is that a tape deck? With an actual cassette tape?_

Her curiosity got the better of her and she moved closer, putting a knee on Peter's bunk for balance and leaning down to inspect it closer. From up close she could read the writing on the tape – _Awesome Mix Vol. 1_. She wondered what was such an old thing doing in a spaceship in the first place, and if every spaceship had it or had Peter put it there? Guess she'd have to ask him, although she was getting really tired of having to ask him about everything.

Moving back from the tape deck, she decided to pay a closer look at the rest of the 'decoration' – there were a bunch of stickers decorating the wall, ones that looked suspiciously from Earth and a bit childish if she had to say so herself, as well as a handful of children's trading cards stuck around the tape deck. There was even a little troll doll there, and Lena was one hundred percent sure now that those were all memorabilia from Earth that Peter must have kept (it was either that, or a kid lived here, and she was pretty sure that was not the case). However, she couldn't help but noticing that the entire wall seemed to be stuck in the past century (despite it being on a spaceship and all) and the question _when was the last time Peter had even stepped foot on Earth?_ crossed her mind once again.

Filling that question away for later, Lena backed away from the bunk and decided to find the man in question.

Last night (or day? Afternoon? Was there even such thing in space?), she and Peter had come to some sort of agreement. It wasn't much, but it was a start – she had a purpose now at least, instead of just going aimlessly about the place and having to rely on someone for nearly every single thing. They had agreed that he wouldn't drop her off on the next spaceport to fend for herself, but she would have to make herself useful. While he himself couldn't take her back home (although she had the nagging suspicion it was more of a matter of _wouldn't_ instead of couldn't), he also promised that he'd ask around to see if there was anyone on their way to Earth so they could, uh, give her a lift? She wasn't sure about that part, other than the fact that _she had to make herself useful in the meantime._

That was the tricky part.

All of her abilities were computer related - and she had no idea how alien computers worked.

* * *

><p>Lena ended up taking some time to freshen herself up in the bathroom before going up the stairs to find Peter. She spotted him with his upper body inside a hatch in the wall, doing who knows what (metallic sounds suggested mechanical tinkering). He managed a glance at her when he heard her approach and dragged himself out of the hatch, wiping his hands on his pants in the process.<p>

"Hey." He said. "Nice to see you back in the land of the living."

She frowned. "How long was I out?"

"Enough for me to go out and restock the ship _and_ fix this leak on the left engine." He smirked. "Almost thought you'd gone into a coma or something."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Dropping a tool he'd been holding on a tool box nearby, Peter closed the hatch and turned back to her. "And now that you're awake, I expect you not to blow up the ship while I'm out."

"Out?" She asked. "Didn't you say you already restocked the ship?" _Unless restocking the ship meant something else._

Peter made a face as he went to grab his jacket from where it had been apparently tossed before. "Yondu calls. Don't wanna make him wait in case he's in a bad mood – you just might get skewered."

Lena tilted her head to the side. "Does he really skewer people?"

Peter snorted, turning away as he put on his jacket. "Oh, you don't know the half of it."

After Peter left, Lena was left standing awkwardly in the middle of an empty spaceship. She wasn't sure what to do next – she didn't have any pressing needs at the moment, but as a jab of hunger surged up she decided to go in search of food. _Well, he did say he'd restocked it, didn't he?_

There were no Twinkies lying around (sometimes her only food source whenever she found herself busy or distracted writing code on the computer) but there was some edible stuff (somewhat) that at least made her feel sated.

And then she was left once again with nothing to do.

Lena began spinning left and right on the seat down in the common area, her eyes roaming about and distractedly taking in the details. There were only so many things that could keep her distracted before the overly curious part of her broke free and started poking around. And hey, it took all ten minutes before she went from distracted to focused, and her eyes began dissecting every single thing in sight as she tried to guess how they worked. Then it took another five minutes before she started inching towards the big screen that stood nearby.

* * *

><p>Peter found her there about an hour later.<p>

He was already in a bad mood after dealing with Yondu, tired of being constantly threatened and treated like a nuisance, so when he spotted her messing with his computer he instantly became suspicious.

"What are you doing?" He asked warily.

Hand frozen halfway to the screen, Lena turned her head to him, startled. "I'm, uh- learning."

Peter raised an eyebrow.

Lena stared back in return, deciding that _enough being the clueless victim_. She was taking back the control in her life – even if it meant right now standing up to the guy who had _saved_ her life. Maybe she had to rethink that strategy. "You said I had to make myself useful, right? I can't do that if I don't know _how_." She waved a hand towards the screen. "Hence, me learning how."

Peter narrowed his eyes as he moved closer to inspect the screen. Why was it so green? "And?"

"And... Well, I've made progress. So far I figured out how to change the color scheme - it's kind of a bright green right now-" At Peter's indignant expression, she continued, "which I can revert back - and I found the internet. Or something like it anyway. Also, I might have - accidentally - sent a message to someone. You probably should take a look at that." She shot him a sheepish look.

Peter's mouth was opened slightly and his eyes were narrowed. He _wanted_ to say something, but his repertoire of comebacks was mostly flirting, annoying people, and bullshitting his way out of things so he decided to only give her a warning look. Purely because he wanted her to be warned, of course. Not because he couldn't think of a good comeback.

Peter shook his head, grabbing her extended wrist and led her away from the screen. "Okay, that's enough. Hopefully you didn't mess with the navigation system because we're really going to need it right now."

"What for?" She asked, part confused, part curious.

Peter sighed. "Yondu - he's still angry about-" and Peter realized she _didn't _know what he was angry about, or maybe that he even was angry. Actually, didn't she only meet Yondu once? Peter briefly wondered if he should tell her that Yondu was angry at him because he picked her up, and use it as leverage if he ever needs any favors. '_I pick you up and see what I get?'_ or something of the sort. Well, sure, _technically_ Yondu was mad at him for ditching the Ravagers during a job, cutting off communications and going to do his own thing, but that's what led him to finding her so it counts, right? "He needs me to drop something off for him, and I should probably do it soon or he'll get even angrier." Letting go of her once they reached the base of the stairs, Peter continued, "Unless you plan on staying here all by yourself-"

"Uh- no, it's fine - I'll just, uh, go with you. If that's okay." It better be, because she wasn't letting him leave her on her own. Lena would much rather not have to worry about space pirates that might want to eat her for a while longer.

Peter motioned her up the stairs. "Then up you go."

* * *

><p>"So... What is it?" Lena asked.<p>

Peter briefly glanced at her before returning to the controls. "What is what?"

Lena began fiddling with her seatbelt - _how do you fasten this thing?_ - as Peter set up the course for where they were going. Wherever that was. "The... Thing. This thing where we're going."

Peter didn't take his eyes off the screen this time. "It's a job. Get money - give it to Yondu - he doesn't kill me. Ravager business."

She pursued her lips as she thought about how she would approach the next question. "... Is it illegal?"

"Depends on what legal system you're talking about."

"The local one."

"Possibly."

_And there goes my plan to start an honest life…_

After a few seconds of awkward silence, her curiosity got the better of her. "Where is it?"

Peter raised his eyebrows and shot her a teasing glance. "Oh, it's a planet right outside the Nova Empire. Don't think you've ever heard of it."

Lena shot him a look right back. _Well, no shit_.

Her eyes narrowed as she realized he was being a smartass.

She thought about asking what this Nova Empire was but considering that Peter didn't seem to be feeling very helpful at the moment she kept quiet, choosing instead to focus on getting her seatbelt fastened up. She felt slightly giddy at the prospect of stepping on a different planet because, sure, she'd already been on a couple of spaceships (in _space_), but actually stepping out on a planet that wasn't her own?

She felt her inner sci-fi fan geek out.

* * *

><p>And then it turned out Peter didn't let her get off the ship.<p>

"Why not?" She'd asked.

"I already have enough to worry about without having to worry about _you_." He'd said. "Stay."

After calling out indignantly that she wasn't a dog, she resigned herself to waiting in the common area again. With nothing to do, again.

That's when she found the table computer.

The screen was relatively smaller than the one right in front of it, but because of its location on the table it resembled a lot more a normal computer (much to her relief) and it allowed her to sit down and type away to her heart's content, just like she used to do back home.

And again, it was there that Peter found her a couple of hours later when he returned (slightly out of breath and with a forming bruise on his cheek).

"Mission accomplished." Peter spoke with a smirk, throwing down a device thing on the table she was at as if she was supposed to know what it was. "In barely no time."

She looked up with a raised eyebrow, meeting his gaze. "I would say so, but it's not like I'd have any idea..." She probably shouldn't have taken pleasure at his deflated expression - but hey, that's what you get for being a smartass.

Turning back to the screen, partly faking no interest, partly caught up with what she was working on, she heard Peter shuffle behind her.

"What are you doing there?" He asked. "Not changing my color scheme again, are you?"

"I changed it back actually— but, ah, I'm playing Pong."

Peter's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion—and some recognition. "Pong?"

"Yeah. The game?" She motioned to the screen where two little bars were hitting a pixelated dot to each other.

Peter's eyes widened. "The Terran game?" At her nod, he continued, albeit a bit more excitedly. "Where did you get it?!"

She wasn't sure whether she was more confused at his excitement over a 1970-something video game (imagine if he saw Wii tennis), or weirded out by the invasion of personal space (he had shoved his face closer to the screen, which meant leaning one hand against the table and the other on her chair, nearly shoving her out of the way).

"I made it. Just now." She explained. "This was an exercise in college – programming old school games - and it's pretty simple. I just had to learn the programming language..." And she trailed off when she noticed he was more preoccupied in figuring out how to play it and wasn't listening to a word she was saying. _Go figure._

Somehow he ended up convincing her to play several best of three matches against each other when playing against himself got boring. She had to say, playing Pong in space was a very strange development. Playing Pong in space with an excitable manchild was even stranger. (Was it too early to call him a manchild? Maybe - she'd wait a little longer to make up her mind about that. But the way that he shouted _Ha! I win!_ or any variant every time he scored wasn't helping his case any.)

* * *

><p><em>I feel like we're finally getting somewhere with the story, or at least starting to develop a relationship so we can move on to friendshippy things and other shenanigans. So yay! Also I'd like to thank all the followsfavorites and reviews, they make me really happy to know at least some people are enjoying this story, haha c: So thank you!_


	6. Business and Pleasure

"You know, leather was never really my thing."

Arms spread out, Lena looked down at herself and her shiny new outfit. Red leather jacket, red leather pants – surprisingly comfortable, but not her first choice of clothes. Unfortunately, it seemed like it was her _only_ choice of clothing at the moment.

Sometime before (between landing on a different planet and going back to the Ravager's main ship), it had occurred to her that she was still wearing the clothes from the day she'd been abducted, and they weren't getting any _cleaner_. After bringing up the subject to Peter, he managed to find a spare Ravager uniform for her to use that miraculously fit her ("_Trust me, they've got all sorts of sizes and shapes in there_," Peter had said with a laugh), but apparently they only came in red (leather).

Peter looked up from the table computer – from where he'd been playing Snake ever since she finished programming the game – and gave her an appraising look. "Can't say it looks bad on you." He said and went back to the screen, only to curse under his breath when he saw he'd lost the game.

If that was an attempt at flirting it was a shabby one at that – saying it while distracted by the game really kills the mood.

Brushing it aside (whatever it was), Lena crossed her arms and sat down on the table as the only seat was occupied. She had half a mind to wave a hand in front of Peter's face when he didn't even look up as she sat down, too engrossed on the game. "Where to next?" She decided asking to get his attention instead.

After a few moments, Peter seemingly gave up playing after another game over and leaned back on the seat, finally focusing his attention on her. "I've got a thing to do on Xandar." He said, then spun around and pushed himself off the seat, walking towards his bunk while calling out, "Auto pilot's set up, so just kick back and wait."

Lena heaved an internal sigh – she was getting bored of waiting all the time – and was about to vocalize her protests, or maybe just tell him that this time she refused to be cooped up in the ship this time when suddenly—

_Is that music?_

"What is that?" She asked, a bit rhetorically. It was music, for sure, and it was vaguely familiar – she'd definitely heard it before. After a moment of confusion, her mind went back to the cassette tape she'd seen a while ago and then it all clicked in place.

"Spirit in the Sky, Norman Greenbaum, 1969." Peter answered as he walked back to the common area, shuffling around and doing weird dance moves in time with the music that Lena chose to ignore for the time being.

Lena jumped down from the table and approached the tape deck – on closer inspection it actually looked like a genuine, working cassette tape player, not just a decoration made to look like one. Most probably where the music was coming from. "Earth music?"

"Hm-hm."

"But on a cassette tape?"

He looked at her with an indignant expression. "And what's wrong with that?"

She crossed her arms. "No one even uses these things anymore. Ever heard of iPods? Hell, even CDs?" She finished, tilting one head to the side with an amused smile._A spaceman that owns a spaceship and still uses cassette tapes? You'd think he'd be a little more advanced than that._

Peter put his hands on hips defensively. "Well, that's what I had with me. When I—left Earth."

"What, in the eighties?"

Peter's face spoke volumes, looking like a deer caught in headlights—but he only shrugged with fake disinterest and turned away from her.

Her eyebrows shot up – he left Earth in the eighties? _1980s_? That was far longer ago than she'd expected, although now that she thought about it, she hadn't really been expecting anything at all. In fact, she hadn't even given any thought about that before, and it brought along a different set of questions, such as, "How old _were_ you?"

He opened his mouth to speak, whether to tell the truth or bullshit his way out (he did that, apparently) she would never know, as a beeping noise coming from the computer interrupted him before he could say anything else. Turning away from her far too quickly for her liking – but not before making a shushing noise – he pressed a button and a large green figure was displayed on the screen.

Putting on his business façade (a smile that Lena would soon come to recognize as one that promised a lot of bullshitting), Peter turned towards the displeased looking, green mass of an alien on the screen. "Hey, Zu'hen! How's it hanging?"

The figure on the screen didn't return the smile, the creases and wrinkles on his skin only crinkled further. "Peter Quill." There was a displeased noise on the other side. "I take it you are on your way to Xandar as we speak?"

"Of course! You'll be holding your package on your delicate, murky green hands in no time!"

"I _eagerly_ await." The green guy deadpanned. "I am sending the coordinates to our meeting place to you as we speak. I trust you'll be able to find it without a problem."

"I will. See you soon, pal." And with that, Peter pressed a button and ended the call, turning back to Lena. "He's not as bad as he looks, I swear – but the _smell…_ I'm pretty sure that guy's breath can knock out an entire Badoon army." He finished off with a laugh.

Lena narrowed her eyes at his quick change of subject and considered going back to their previous topic of conversation but decided against it – she wouldn't just forget about it, though, she was simply waiting until another opportunity came up.

* * *

><p>Xandar.<p>

Capital of the Nova Empire.

Orbiting around three suns.

Looks something straight out of a sci-fi movie.

Needless to say, Lena was in awe.

"Lena, come on." Peter pressed her on. "I'm on a tight schedule here."

He tried to tug her forward but she slapped his hand away. "Just—give me a second, alright? I need a moment for slack-jawed staring here."

He frowned. "Why?"

Now she was the one to give him an incredulous look. "Because—space! First time on another planet! I think I'm allowed some sightseeing."

"It's not that big a deal…"

"Well, I'm sorry Mr. I've-been-in-space-since-the-eighties, not all of us have had that privilege."

"You call that privilege, I call that life." He pulled on her arm and she reluctantly went with him. "Come on, Earth Girl, you can sightsee _after_ we're done." He paused. "If we're not being chased out."

"…Is there a possibility of being chased out?" She carefully asked.

He grinned and slung an arm around her shoulders. "There's always a possibility of being chased out. No use worrying about that now – let's go."

She raised her eyebrows. "And is there a possibility of a _warning_ if we're going to be chased out?"

"If you see angry people running towards you, waving guns – run."

"Wonderful." She deadpanned.

* * *

><p>It didn't take them long to reach what was obviously one of the shadiest parts of town – while the streets before were well-lit in the night and the population diverse (she could swear she saw more alien species here than in all Star Wars movies) but mostly harmless, the alleyway they had walked into at the moment was dark and shadowy, making the already hostile-looking individuals walking about seem even more intimidating. Sneaking a glance at Peter, Lena noticed that if he felt any uneasiness of any sort like she was feeling, he didn't show. In fact, he was walking rather confidently and it made her wonder whether he was really brave or really stupid – and it made her questions her life choices. Again.<p>

_It's not like life has given me much choice anyway._

Peter guided them to a decent-looking building squished between other shady-looking ones. The entrance actually looked like a (rather futuristic) nightclub, and as they stepped inside, it _did_ turn out to be a shady futuristic nightclub.

"May I help you?" An alien lady (she assumed) that stood near the back spoke once they approached her. Unlike other people, she was dressed in an immaculate fashion and stood uninterested near a computer terminal, away from the crowd.

"Yes." Peter grinned at her and leaned on the computer terminal, trying to appear casual (and maybe flirty? Lena could only guess, to be honest it only looked ridiculous to her). "I'm here to meet with someone – they're expecting me."

"I see." The woman shot a look at the spot Peter was leaning on as if passive-aggressively asking him to remove himself. He didn't get the hint. "And what name should I look for in the list?"

With a confident smile, he spoke. "Try Star-Lord."

At the same time the woman shot him another passive-aggressive look (this time of the incredulous variety), Lena turned to him with a raised eyebrow. Peter seemed oblivious to both, and it was only when the woman let out a near-imperceptible exasperated sigh (she must have a lot of experience with dealing with troublesome clients) and turned to her computer that Peter noticed the look Lena was blatantly giving him.

He frowned. "What?" His tone of confusion made Lena's other eyebrow joined its twin. "It's what they call me."

She tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowing. "Do they?"

Peter opened his mouth but ended up only clearing his throat awkwardly. "…yes."

"I'm sorry," the woman spoke up, interrupting whatever retort Lena had come up with, "there is no _Star-Lord_ in the list."

As Peter's face fell, Lena had to bite her cheek to keep from grinning. Part of her felt bad for laughing at his miserable expression, but if she had to judge from the look on his face she'd say he had already been expecting dejection.

He sighed. "Try Quill."

The woman returned to her computer after shooting him yet another passive-aggressive irritated look.

There was a pause as the woman tapped away at her computer and Peter looked anywhere but at Lena, no matter how hard she tried to meet his eyes.

"So they call you Star-Lord?" Lena had to ask, hoping to get him to look at her but not even bothering to hide the teasing tone in her voice.

Without even a glance, he hissed out a sharp "Quiet."

"Yes, there is a Mr. Quill on the list." The woman spoke, shifting her attention away from the computer. "If you could please accompany me, I'll escort you to the meeting room. No company allowed." She finished with a meaningful look in Lena's direction

Lena wasn't sure what made aliens think she was Peter's _company_, but she was getting really fed up with it. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about it at the moment and had to resign herself to waiting for Peter to finish his business.

"Wait here, don't go anywhere." Peter had said as the alien woman led him away. He also felt the need to call out a "Stay!" as he walked away, which prompted Lena to mutter indignantly that she wasn't a dog. Again.

_I'm not some lost little puppy following you around_, she almost said out loud but stopped suddenly. _Am I?_

She shook her head. "Give it time." She muttered, sighing and scanning the nightclub for a place she could sit and wait undisturbed.

* * *

><p>It took Peter about half an hour to come back out. She would never admit it, but when she spotted the now familiar red coat stepping out of the backroom she felt a wave of relief flooding through her. She couldn't help it - despite managing to find a secluded spot away from the crowd good enough that no one looked her way, her wariness grew by the minute. It was her paranoia acting up again, although this time she felt entitled to it given the situation.<p>

As Peter approached her, she forced herself into a more casual stance. "We good to go?" She asked, her eyes flitting to Peter's empty hands and wondering if he'd been successful or not.

"Go? We're not going anywhere."

Lena frowned. "Didn't you do… whatever it was that you had to do?"

"Yes, but-" He slung an arm over her shoulder, dragging her out of her comfy zone and into the noisy crowd. "_Now_ is the fun part." At her confused frown, he continued. "Time for a drink!"

"Oh." _Of course._

Peter let go of her once they reached the bar, leaning on the counter and signalling the bartender. He ended up ordering some kind of alien drink that she had never heard of, making her feel even more displaced than she already was. _He couldn't have just ordered a beer, could he?_

"Is this what you do?" Lena asked. "Do business, get drunk afterwards?"

"Why, is that a problem?"

"No, it's a…" She shrugged. "Valid life style."

He grinned. "So, what're you gonna get?"

Lena opened her mouth to speak but stopped, realizing that they most likely did _not_ have the same kind of drinks she was used to back-– back on her home planet (that was going to take a while to get used to). "I don't suppose they serve beer here, do they?"

Peter shook his head. "Don't think so, no."

"Whiskey? Cocktails? Tequila shots?"

"You know what-" He signalled the bartender again. "Why don't you get the same thing as me. Terran-safety guaranteed, I promise."

* * *

><p>"I thought this was safe!" Lena rasped out quite <em>painfully<em> through the agony of a burning throat.

It only took one sip of Peter's _supposedly_ Terran-safe drink to make Lena lose faith in Peter's decision making skills altogether. The thing burned, falling like hot lava down her throat and she could feel it sinking down on her stomach in a non-pleasant way (and that was _extremely_ understating it). _Oh my God, it burns!_

Peter's only response was to laugh – it might have been revenge for her teasing him about the Star-Lord thing, but she was too focused on the burning sensation to get mad at him for it. "It is safe!"

"It burns!"

"But that's the thing!"

"What, the burning?"

Peter didn't answer, instead he took a swig of his drink, causing his eyes to immediately screw shut and his face scrunch up, hand coming down on the bar hard as he bent over, groaning loudly. Well, at least she wasn't the only one to have a severe reaction – it helped ease her embarrassment at being caught off-guard by such a strong drink (understatement).

Peter let out another loud groan before he slowly recomposed himself. Shaking his head as he straightened himself out, he offered her a dazed grin. "See? It gets better afterwards."

Lena didn't buy it. "And then you drink more and it burns all over again."

"Nooo." He picked up his drink again and brought it up to his mouth. "It goes away after the third sip or so."

"Right." Lena watched incredulously as he swallowed more of the burning liquid, repeating the whole 'pained face and loud groans' thing from before.

"Try it." He offered (after the pain had stopped).

"Nuh-uh."

"_Try it._"

"No! I don't trust your judgement anymore." And probably should have never done that in the first place.

He narrowed his eyes at her for a moment as if assessing her, then turned back to his own drink with an indifferent shrug. "Fine then." He paused. "Chicken."

As he took another sip, it was her turn to narrow her eyes at him. _Oh no, he did not._"I'm sorry?"

Peter shuddered to shake off the burning sensation on his throat before answering. "You heard me. _Chicken_." He shot her a pointed look that screamed _I dare you._

_God, how much childish could he be?_

Despite all the warnings in her head telling her _not_ to stoop down to his level, her pride had already been hurt far too much in this whole space extravaganza for her _not_ to take up the challenge.

Feigning disinterest, Lena turned away from him and faced the counter, Peter doing the same. After a few moments spent in silence, she began lightly tapping her fingers against the counter, slowly inching closer towards her own drink—

And she wasn't sure what made her do it, but her hand quickly grabbed the drink and brought it up, taking one _long_ swing and the next thing she knew was immediately regretting every decision she had made so far. Peter had to bring a hand to his mouth to muffle the surprised snort and he stared at her wide-eyed as she flailed around, feeling the effects of the drink.

"What the hell! You're not supposed to drink that much at once!" He yelled, surprised but infinitely amused.

_You could have told me that before!_She wanted to say, but she couldn't get the words out through the burning pain. Peter even had the indelicacy to laugh at her, and she had to settle on simply glaring at him when words wouldn't come out.

Coughing violently, she banged a hand on her chest as she tried to calm the burning pain and Peter could only stand by awkwardly, hand hovering over her shoulder without knowing what to do.

Hesitantly, he brought his hand down to pat her back as she miserably rested her forehead against the counter. "You alright there?" He asked, retreating his hand and leaning his elbows on the bar. Lena's only response was to groan loudly.

Peter snorted and took another sip, patting her back again.

* * *

><p><em>There was something with this chapter that just wouldn't come out, but in the end I like how it turned out c: Story-wise, we're getting things moving hell yeah<em>

_This chapter also might have taken a while because I kept looking it over again and again to make sure there were no errors, and on that note, if anyone finds any typos or grammatical/factual errors on any of the chapters, do say so! I'd appreciate it! And on that same note, I went back to last chapter and corrected the fact that it's Nova Empire instead of Xandarian empire (my mistake, oops)._

_I would like to thank all the reviews/faves/follows again, they make me so happy, you have no idea c: Anyways, hope you're enjoying!_


	7. Interlude: Cosmic Hangover

Not for the first time this week, Lena woke up with little recollection of where she was. Most of the times, however, it was due to the fact that she still hadn't fully come to terms with the fact that she was in space, but on this day in particular, a killer hangover was added to the mix of what promised to be the beginning of a day full of embarrassment and regret.

Slowly blinking awake, Lena pressed a hand against her forehead in a futile attempt of soothing the headache that was thumping away at her brain. She didn't have a lot of memories of the night before, which most likely meant that she'd drank, and _a lot_. Turning her head to the bunk beside hers, she saw that her 'space buddy' was already up, so she craned her neck to search for him at the common area and spotted him drinking from a mug and lazily swiping at the computer. Gathering enough strength, Lena pushed herself off the bed and groaned when the headache was only made worse.

"How's the hangover?" Peter called from the common area, a teasing tone in his voice.

Lena turned to stare at him with a blank expression, except she was pretty sure she looked as miserable as she felt. "What hangover." She said dryly _and_ sarcastically at the same time. She felt it was an accomplishment (considering the state she was in).

Lena ran a hand through her brown hair as she walked towards the kitchen space (which was essentially a small section of the common area, but it had food – hence kitchen) in search of that weird space coffee she was introduced to a couple of days ago.

"You guys don't have some kind of miraculous cure for hangover here in space, do you?" She asked as she poured herself some space coffee.

"If we had one, don't you think I would have taken it?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, you seem awfully cheery."

"Well, you know," Peter grinned, "maybe I'm just that good."

Lena didn't even bother to hide the eye roll – but decided to save on those when it didn't agree with her headache.

"Or maybe… You're just a lightweight." Peter added.

She was the tiniest bit offended – she could hold her drink , thank you very much. "I'm _not_."

"I mean, really, we're not that different. Just two hot blooded Americans – there's no big secret here."

Lena frowned. "I'm Canadian."

Now it was his turn to frown. "What?"

"I'm _Canadian_. I told you – I said I was from Toronto." She really did, she wasn't sure when she'd told him but she was sure it had come up at least once.

He scrunched up his nose. "…Isn't that in America?"

"…No, that's in Canada."

"You sure?"

Lena shot him an ugly look that shut him up on the spot.

Peter exhaled and shrugged, turning away. "I was never good with geography anyway. There's a reason why they invented the navigation system, you know." He finished, jerking a thumb towards the computer screen.

"So disoriented people like you don't end up in the middle of a black hole by accident?"

"I'm _perfectly_ oriented, thank you very much."

Lena looked away, hiding a smirk behind her mug. "Hm-hm." She hummed to herself.

* * *

><p><em>This was short (but it was intentional, I swear). Consider this sort of a drabbleoneshot thing that didn't fit either chapter, and also to hold you off until I can finish writing the actual next chapter c: And since I'm probably gonna have more of those sometime later, I'm calling them Interludes. c:_

_Also can I just say that it's really hard to get a good idea of the layout of the Milano? I'm mostly just making up the bathroom and the kitchen space, but I try to stick with what I could map out from watching the movie (for instance, no there doesn't seem to be any separate rooms other than the two bunks we see, and it makes me wonder what exactly are the Guardians' sleeping arrangements, and y'know, general arrangements. I mean, it is a pretty small ship. I hope there really is a proper bathroom in there somewhere)._

_And as always thank you for the lovely reviews (and also kudos to the guest that spotted the Hitchhiker's Guide reference in chapter 4, have a cookie, friend) c:_


	8. Between Brave and Stupid

If someone had told him a couple of months ago that he'd be having a human woman, from _Terra_ of all places, crashing in his ship, he'd probably—well, he didn't know anyone who could have told him something like that.

But if someone _had _told him, he probably would have laughed. And, probably, he would have thought they'd be getting really _friendly_ by now – or at the very least, there'd be some heavy flirting, after all, his flirting skills weren't too shabby (he was very proud of them, actually, no matter what anyone says), and it wasn't every day he'd meet someone from the same species as his, let alone from the same planet.

But alas, the circumstances (and the woman in question) were far more different than anything he could have envisioned, and he'd ended up with this smart-mouthed, tech-savvy roommate who was starting to become a lot more bossy than he was comfortable with.

Peter sighed. "What are you doing there anyway, that you're taking up both screens?"

Lena briefly looked up from the table screen, to Peter's face, then to the bigger screen (that was currently displaying a handful of messages that Peter did not fully understand), then back to the table computer. "Things."

"You're not breaking my computer, are you?"

She snorted. "Of course not – give me some credit." She glanced at him again. "Besides – didn't you say you had business to do? Go do business." She made a shooing gesture with one hand.

"What are you, my boss?"

"No, but I really can't have you whining on my ear constantly while I'm trying to optimize your system. You said I had to make myself useful, now _you_ go make yourself useful." She paused, typing away for a couple of seconds. "Also, Yondu is going to be pissed at you if you don't get the package back in time."

At the mention of Yondu, Peter straightened up as he remembered the time limit he'd been given to 'acquire' (some would call it _stealing_) this package and deliver it to the Ravager leader. There was no hurry as of now, but it's always better to do it sooner in case of complications arising.

He exhaled. "Fine." Grabbing his coat, Peter turned away to leave as he shrugged it on. "Just don't break my ship while I'm out."

"I'm not going to _break_ your ship…" Lena muttered. As Peter was climbing up the stairs, Lena called out, "Also don't forget to ask around about the whole hitching a ride thing!"

Peter grumbled a little – just because he'd kinda – completely – forgot to ask about it that time on Xandar, she'd been constantly reminding him ever since. And most of the time, it had no results - _no one_ ever went anywhere near Terra because it was Asgardian airspace, and no reasonable amount of units could convince them otherwise. The only ones who would venture there were the less trustworthy ones, like, say, those slave traders, but he had a feeling Lena wouldn't be very partial in getting a ride with the ones that abducted her in the first place.

* * *

><p>Lena glanced at the computer clock for the third time in the last half hour. It wasn't set in any unit of measurement of time that she'd ever heard of, but she'd been looking at it long enough to know that quite some time had passed since Peter left. She'd estimate at least two hours, but it could have been longer.<p>

Not that she was getting worried.

But it was getting increasingly hard to concentrate on other things when her mind kept wondering if Peter had run into trouble of any sort – or worse, if he was coming back at all.

It wasn't like he would just abandon her there (with his own ship), and it might have been irrational on her part to assume the worst, but considering his line of work was mostly illegal and it involved guns – her mind kept wandering into worst case scenarios. Sure, this thing Peter went to do might just be taking a while. Or, sure, he might already be done with it and was just chilling on some bar or something. Or maybe… Something went wrong and he was now dead in a ditch somewhere.

Lena furiously rubbed a hand over her face – next time, she'd make him give her an estimated time before she started assuming she was stranded alone in space.

* * *

><p>Another hour passed. Or maybe more, she wasn't quite sure, but what she was sure of is that she was getting restless and sitting still was no longer an option.<p>

Getting up from her seat, she stretched her limbs and glanced up at the stairs. At that moment, she was stuck in a very heated debate with herself in which one part of her told her to sit and wait while the other part demanded that she go out there and drag him back and make him stop worrying her.

That part won.

Lena determinedly made her way out of the ship, leaving no time for second guessing herself. Her resolve did falter a bit once she actually stepped foot outside – the sight that greeted her was not like any of the other planets she'd been on. If she thought they'd been questionable before, this one was downright_ unscrupulous._ It was what she'd seen in the Ravager mothership, except _ten times worse_. Every single being in here looked like they wanted to murder her or something of the sort, and for some reason unknown to herself, that only made her worry for _Peter_ worsen.

_Dammit, Peter_, she cursed in her head for what was probably the hundredth time in an hour.

She stood near the entrance to the Milano trying to look casual (don't let them know you're afraid, right?), but all her nerves were on edge. She'd stormed out of the ship due to some reckless decision making, and now that she was out here, _she had no idea what to do._

She didn't know where Peter was, or how to find him. She didn't know how to protect herself if worst came to worst. What was she thinking?

Resolve nearly shattered completely, Lena turned back around to the ship but stopped in her tracks, and just as quickly turned back. Then she turned away again, and then back, as she tried to make up her mind on whether or not it was a good idea to go search for Peter. _He's probably fine,_ she tried to reassure herself. She didn't feel very reassured.

The Terran stood there for quite a while, weighing the pros and cons of the situation. The people around her had started to disperse, and suddenly she was alone in front of the Milano.

Then she heard shouting. Angry shouting.

She didn't even think twice about bolting forward, but it was only when her mind recognized one of the voices in the commotion that she ran even faster until she reached the source.

Hiding in the shadows between two ships were two figures – one of which she immediately recognized as Peter.

And he was the one on the ground, while the other – a blue-skinned alien – hovered above him. While holding a gun.

_Easy job my ass – for fuck's sakes, Peter!_

Not willing to rush forward without a plan this time, Lena quickly ducked for cover – the other guy had his back towards her so he didn't spot her quick dash behind some crates. She stayed crouched for a moment, trying to think of any plan, _anything_ that she could do in this situation that wouldn't end with her and Peter shot or worse. Nothing came to mind.

Carefully, she peeked around the corner of the crate and watched as the guy waved his gun around as he made threats (he didn't have the gun particularly trained on Peter, which was kind of sloppy on his part and incredibly fortunate for her. That was probably the only opening she was going to get.)

"—think I'd let some lowly Ravager steal from _me?_" She caught what the guy was saying. He was still waving his gun around in a threatening fashion, looking quite full of himself.

"Kinda hoped you wouldn't find out…" Peter remarked with that same grin he always wore despite being in disadvantage – except it looked much weaker now, especially because he had a large gash and trail of blood down his cheek.

"You did, didn't you?" The other guy said. "Let me teach ya a couple of things about breaking into _my home, my-_" Lena tuned him out as her eyes fell upon a long piece of metal sticking out loosely from another crate that was close enough to her hiding spot.

And suddenly, a very reckless and very_ dangerous_ plan formed in her mind – and then her mind was made up and there was no turning back.

After making sure the guy was still ranting and with his back turned to her, Lena slowly made her way towards the piece of metal (that turned out to be a short pipe). She pulled it out carefully, holding it tightly in her hand as she snuck up behind him. Peter noticed her when she got close, but other than a slight widening of his eyes he didn't do anything to betray her position. She held her breath, tightened her hold on the pipe and swung across the blue guy's head.

The guy fell to the side hard, giving her the opportunity to run to Peter and pull him up from the ground. Even though he accepted her help, he still shot her a glare. "I told you to stay on the ship!" He yelled.

And even though Lena was busy watching the other guy slowly recover at the same time she was tugging on Peter's arm, she still managed to snap back at him. "Really, you want to complain about that _now?!_"

Once Peter was back on his feet, Lena shot forward – as she was not willing to stay and feel the wrath of the guy she'd just _whacked on the head_. Peter was still a little wobbly behind her, but after stumbling a few steps he matched Lena's pace and the two ran as fast as they could back to the ship.

Somewhere along the way, they started hearing angry shouts coming from behind them and they quickly shared a glance before running even faster.

* * *

><p>"What the hell did you do to piss off those guys?" She yelled, throwing herself on the co-pilot seat and buckling in as quickly as she could.<p>

Peter was already pressing buttons and screens, having neglected the seat belt in favor of taking off the ship as fast as he could. Lena didn't really have any objections and, for some reason, kept throwing backwards glances as if someone might have followed them into the ship itself.

"Oh you know," Peter spoke, a little bit hysterical as he turned on the engines, "the usual."

"Lying, thieving and general deceitfulness?"

Peter let out a loud, hysterical laugh as the ship took off from the ground. "Pretty much!"

While Lena may not have been very familiar with space at that point, but even she knew when they managed to escape from the planet's atmosphere and into the blackness of space. Peter didn't stop piloting until a long while, though, as he wanted to make sure they weren't being followed. Once he was sure of it, Peter put the ship in autopilot and leaned back on the seat, letting out a long sigh.

"I need a drink." He spoke, mostly to himself.

"There are no drinks." Lena replied anyway. "Last time I checked."

He sighed again, pushing himself off the chair. "Fine. Water, then."

Lena stared at him as he descended the stairs with an odd look. She quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and went after him, and ended up finding him drinking – well then – water. He must really be desperate.

Peter ignored her as he leaned against the table tiredly, paying attention mostly to his ever growing headache.

"You're bleeding." Lena stated.

He looked down at himself quickly, and then looked up at her when he didn't see any blood. "Where?"

She pointed. "Your face."

He brought his hand up and touched the side of his face that had been hit. Bringing his hand away he saw that his fingers were stained red.

He sighed. "Eh, it's nothing."

When he didn't move, Lena pressed. "You're not gonna do anything about it?"

"It's nothing serious."

There was a long pause as Lena watched him with an intent look on her face and he, in turn, tried to ignore her stare. Peter didn't know _what _she wanted from him, and he was too tired and too sore to spare the brainpower to figure it out. She'd forget about it soon enough.

Lena was the first to break the silence.

She sighed. "Do you even some kind of medical kit in here?"

"Yeah, yeah, in the bathroom. It's fine." He answered distractedly, touching the cold cup of water to his temple to try and soothe the pain.

She nodded. "Alright." And then walked away into someplace he couldn't care less - his headache was demanding his full attention at the moment.

A minute later, Lena walked back into the common area and dropped something on the table next to him. He glanced down curiously and noticed it was his medical kit. Or at least he thought it was, he hadn't touched that thing in a while.

Peter shot her a questioning look at the same time she pointed at the table and spoke. "Sit." He raised an eyebrow at her. She rolled her eyes in return. "Just do it."

Unsurely, he did as he was told and jumped up on the table. Lena diverted her gaze from his face and turned to the medical kit, examining its contents. Picking up some cloth, she grabbed the cup of water from his hands (after ignoring a small protest on his part), sniffed it to make sure it was really water, and then poured some on the cloth. She set the cup down on the table and slapped his hand away before bringing up the wet cloth to his face.

He tried to protest, say he didn't need her to take care of his wounds as they weren't serious enough to warrant the attention, but every time he opened his mouth or raised a hand she'd stop him.

"You're ridiculous." She started. "And stupid. And reckless."

He winced as the cloth made contact to the cut on his cheek – so maybe it was worse than he thought it'd be. "So?"

"So…" She trailed off. She pressed the cloth against the wound a bit harder and he winced again.

"You worry?" He suggested with a small smirk.

Her hand paused halfway to his face as her eyes narrowed. "I worry… that I'm going to end up all alone in space again, after you go get yourself killed." She then resumed the cleaning.

"You don't have to worry about _that_." He said, continuing to smirk. "I've been doing this all my life – I haven't died before and I'm not going to die now."

"I have my doubts." She muttered.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you questioning my competence?"

"Uh-huh. Now be quiet."

Peter shot her a nasty look, but he didn't really mean it. And by look she gave him he knew she was teasing him anyway. Slumping down, he sighed and looked away as he let Lena do her thing – he'd give in this time and let her treat his cut.

(It was nice having someone looking after him for a change.)

* * *

><p><em>I don't have a lot to say about this chapter other than interactions! Friendship! Development! Sort of!<em>

_I really want to get into the friendshippy part, it's fun c: (and then we can move on to the shippy part ooh yeaa) And again, thank you guys so much for the reviews, they make me so motivated to keep writing, you have no idea! Thank you!_


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